No Light, No Light
by mindless-mayhem
Summary: Layla White was working as a nurse in a local doctors office when an after hours patient changed her life. But how will her cop boyfriend John Blake respond to this change?


She wandered around the empty office putting some papers in files and cleaning up as she went. The rest of the staff had been long gone, but she stayed late today. She knew there was no point, but at that moment, she wanted peace; something she could only find in the empty office. She had just opened a file cabinet to put the last of the papers away when she heard the door open.  
"Sorry, we're closed." She didn't hear any response. "I must have for-". She stopped mid-sentence as she turned around seeing the man standing just inside the door. She stared at him for a second noting the scars on his face and the hidden pain in his eyes.  
"Are you okay sir?" He still didn't respond, but he was clutching his abdomen with one hand as the other hung lazily by his side. She took that time to notice his size. He was probably twice, if not three times the size of her boyfriend. That's when she noticed the blood.  
"Oh my god."  
"Is the doctor in?" He finally spoke. His voice held an accent that she was not familiar with.  
"No, he's gone for the day. But come over here and I'll try to help you out." She ushered him over quickly not liking the amount of staining she saw on his shirt. He didn't move, just stood staring at her.  
"I won't hurt you. I'm a nurse, I can help with that. And from the looks of things you should have been here a while ago."  
He finally walked towards her following her into the back where she pointed to an exam table for him to sit on. He stopped for a second before going to where she pointed.  
"I'm going to need you to take your shirt off," She called from the room over where she was collecting several supplies. He was hesitant but he did as she said. When she came back in she waited at the door, noticing him again. His chest was covered in scars not as drastic as the ones on his face, but scars none the less. He noticed her staring and his eyes hardened. She noticed the change in his affect and started over to him placing everything on the table. She began to cleanse the wound with saline and cleaned it up a bit to get a better look. Glancing up at him periodically, he was staring straight ahead, no emotion on his face or him his eyes. She wondered about this man, who he was, how he got this way. But she didn't say anything. When she had cleaned the blood up enough to see it definitely was a gunshot wound, she reached over grabbing the needle with the freezing agent in it and he looked over at her, the hard look still in his eyes. She stared up for a minute noticing how blue his eyes were.  
"Just freezing."  
He continued to stare at her, but didn't say anything.  
"It's gonna keep this from hurting like hell."  
He didn't say anything but removed his gaze from her. She took this as a silent acceptance and proceeded to freeze the area.  
"You have a name?" He didn't say anything and continued to stare forward. "Okay." She muttered to herself.  
"Alex." His odd accent caught her off guard again, but it didn't stop her from noticing the hesitance in his voice. She doubted that was his real name.  
"He speaks." She said in mock amusement.  
He returned his cold stare to her, obviously not amused by her comment.  
"So who shot you Alex?"  
He still didn't say anything.  
"You can trust me, you know."  
He looked over to her again, but his eyes weren't as hard; still cold, but less so. When he still didn't speak she continued to do her job quietly. As she was removing the bullet with a metal pair of forceps he spoke again.  
"What's your name?"  
She waited until the bullet was out and dropped it in the k-basin before answering.  
"Layla." She looked up meeting his blue eyes again. He nodded slightly and looked away.  
She shook her head slightly and went back to fixing up his wound. When the bandage was on and secured she peeled off her gloves.  
"There you go Alex. All patched up."  
He stood, pulling his shirt back on. As she was disposing of the tools she heard him start to walk away. The noise of his heavy shoes stopped and she turned to look in the direction of the man.  
"Thank you."  
She stared at him for a second thoroughly confused by this mysterious man.  
"No problem."  
He nodded again and walked out of the office, not looking back.

She walked into the small apartment that she shared with her boyfriend, happy to be home, throwing her coat on the couch in front of her. She heard noises from the kitchen and walked towards it skeptically. Peeking in she noticed that her boyfriend had beat her home.  
"Well this is weird." She said walking further into the kitchen.  
He put down the items that were in his hands throwing the dish towel over his shoulder and walking towards her. "I know, I beat you home." He outstretched his arms, pulling her into him kissing her forehead.  
"True, but I meant you actually cooking was weird." She looked up at him with a smirk and he could see the exhaustion in her eyes. He sent her a playful glare and kissed her.  
"Long day?"  
She sighed and rested her head on his chest. "You could say that."  
"Anything exciting?"  
She released her grip on him, walking over to the stove to check what was in the pots.  
"I stayed a little late today, and ended up patching up some weirdo coming in with a bullet in his stomach."  
He walked towards her, concern mixed with anger gracing his features.  
"What have I told you Layla?"  
"I know, I swore I locked the door."  
"There's a lot of freaks in this city, and letting one into the office when you're by yourself? You could have gotten hurt."  
"Yeah? And what about you. You go head to head with them every day, you could get hurt too."  
"You know that's different. I'm a cop Layla."  
"And I know how to take care of myself John."  
The two stood in a stalemate staring each other down with crossed arms and set jaws. John was the first one to break, dropping his arms and sighing. "I'm not saying that you can't, but you don't know how dangerous some of these freaks can be." He walked over to her, closing the gap, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."  
She wrapped her arms around his back and rested her head on his chest, sighing softly. "And you think I could live if anything happened to you?" She looked up at him with glossy eyes.  
"Nothing's gonna happen to me. I'm the best damn cop in Gotham." A smirk gracing his features.  
She chuckled. "Sure, just keep telling yourself that Blake."  
"I will, White."  
She shook her head at him, chuckling, as her stomach growled. "So about that food you were making?"  
He walked over to the oven, opening the pan and revealing a very dry looking piece of meat. She looked over his shoulder at the item and raised an eyebrow turning her gaze to him.  
"So, take out?"  
He pulled open the drawer with the menus and handed her a few. "Ladies choice." He carried the pan to the garbage, dumping the shrivelled item into the bag as she sat at a stool flipping through the pages. The event of earlier replayed through her head and she couldn't help but wonder exactly who the man with the scars was, and more importantly if she'd ever see him again.


End file.
